


Fear and Fake Blood

by liionne



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 14:00:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Joly, sit in the middle. But not next to me, I can't have you hyperventilating and putting me off the movie." Courfeyrac said as he sat Jehan down next to Joly, and sat himself on the end beside Jehan. Bossuet sat on Joly's other side, holding his hand firmly, and Grantaire sat next to Bossuet, because he refused, however subtly, to sit on the end.</p><p>They were sat there for just seconds when the lights fell, and the movie began.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear and Fake Blood

"Will you calm down?" Enjolras rolled his eyes as they stood in line for the movie.

Joly shook his head. "Nope. I won't. Have you seen the trailer for this thing? _Have you seen it_!?"

"Yes I have, actually." Enjolras returned. "And that's why we're going to see it."

Joly gave him a worried look.

Enjolras sighed. "If you don't want to watch it, go home." He said.

Grantaire nodded, and said rather unconvincingly, "Yeah, just go home." He wished he could go home.

"You'll be fine sweetheart." Bossuet gave Joly a gentle kiss on the cheek and looped his arm around him.

"Six for Seriel Insane Clown Killer, please." Enjolras asked the woman at the ticket desk politely.

She smiled, and handed him their tickets. As they walked into the theatre, stopping to pick up a box of Red Vines and Jelly Smurfs on the way, Joly began on a panic attack.

"Oh my god, oh my god, this is going to be terrible. This is going to be horrible. I'm not going to sleep for a week. Oh my god." He murmured repeatedly. Bossuet tried to soothe him, but it wasn't doing very much good.

"Joly, sit in the middle. But not next to me, I can't have you hyperventilating and putting me off the movie." Courfeyrac said as he sat Jehan down next to Joly, and sat himself on the end beside Jehan. Bossuet sat on Joly's other side, holding his hand firmly, and Grantaire sat next to Bossuet, because he refused, however subtly, to sit on the end.

They were sat there for just seconds when the lights fell, and the movie began.

~~~~~

When the lights came up, everyone drew in a long, shaky breath.

"That was... good." Jehan said when it was over.

Enjolras wrinkled his nose in dissent. "Too much fake blood for me. And the plot was terrible. I mean, where did the clown even come from?"

"It was in the kid's bedroom at the beginning, Enj. Did you miss that?" Bossuet asked, as he led a shaking Joly out of the theatre.

"Huh." Enjolras thought about it. "Must have. But why was it so hell bent on killing the next door neighbour if he was in the little girl's room?"

Bossuet shrugged. "That's what I don't understand, my friend. But maybe-"

"Can we just stop talking about it?" Grantaire snapped.

"Yeah," Courfeyrac agreed. "The movie was shit, end of story."

Bossuet, Jehan and Enjolras gave each other confused glances, but no one said anything. It was cold outside the theatre, and Enjolras zipped up his jacket.

"C'mon Joly. We'll give you and Bossuet a lift home. See you later guys." Enjolras raised a hand in a wave to Courfeyrac and Jehan. Courfeyrac was pretty reluctant to be separate from the group, but he allowed Jehan to pull him along by the hand anyways. He pulled himself together enough so that he could get in the car, and drive home without a crash.

Enjolras got into the driver's seat of his own car, allowing Grantaire to get in beside him, and Joly and Bossuet to get in the back.

"Y'know, R," Enjolras began, as they drove out of the parking lot. "I think you would have really liked that movie. If you hadn't of spent half of it behind your hand."

"I did like it." Grantaire replied shakily. "I thought it was good. I love blood and gore."

Enjolras smirked. Joly whimpered in the back.

The apartment Joly and Bossuet shared with Musichetta was on the way to Enjolras and Grantaire's place, so they dropped them off right outside. Bossuet must have texted Musichetta because she was stood at the door when they pulled up outside. She ushered Joly inside, and Enjolras stopped Bossuet to tell him to text him in the morning to see how Joly was doing. And then he let him go inside, and he drove home.

~~~~~

When Courfeyrac got home, Jehan announced he was going to bed. And because he was shitting bricks, Courfeyrac followed him in. He undressed quickly, clambering into bed so that Jehan would be the one who had to walk through the dark to get back to the bed. He huddled himself up in between the sheets, and gave a yelp when the lights went out.

It was pitch black with the light out, and Courfeyrac felt another body get into the bed, and pull the sheets up. His hand was shaking as he reached out a hand towards the other body; he just had to check that it actually _was_ Jehan and not some psycho clown killer. When his fingers felt the familiar warm flesh of Prouvaire's body, he relaxed slightly. But only slightly.

He lay down in bed, curled up as small as he could be, and pressed himself against Jehan's side. He pressed his head to the other man's arm and bit down on his lip.

"You're clingy tonight." Jehan murmured softly, turning so that he was lying on his side, facing Courfeyrac, who was now an inch or so away from Jehan's shoulder blade.

"No I'm not." he murmured.

Jehan paused for a moment, thoughtful, and then he smiled. "Are you... scared?"

"No." Courfeyrac retorted, his voice sounding harsher than he had meant it to. Then he paused. And changed his mind. "Maybe a little bit."

"Ah, honey," Jehan pressed a kiss to Courfeyrac's forehead. "It's not real."

"Who's to say?" Courfeyrac mumbled against Jehan's bare skin.

"I am." Jehan smiled. "I'm the master of fiction, remember. And I'm saying that it's not real. And anyways," He continued, shifting to wrap his arms around Courfeyrac and pulled him into his body. "Even if it were real, I'm here to protect you."

Courfeyrac gave a small exhale, and kissed the skin in front of his mouth, what he believed to be Jehan's shoulder. Good Jehan. Lovely, good Jehan who was so small and so flimsy and so fragile looking that Courfeyrac felt the need to constantly protect him, and here he was promising to do the reverse. It deserved another kiss, he thought, and he so he pressed one to Jehan's lips this time.

"Thank you." He murmured, his voice muffled by warm skin and soft fabric.

"My pleasure." Jehan murmured, planting a kiss in Courfeyrac's curls.

~~~~~

"C'mon, sweetie, into bed."

Musichetta had to coax Joly into the covers, pulling him ever so gently by his fingers onto the bed. He was calmer than he was before, but he still looked around himself warily as he got into bed.

"You get in the middle, sweetheart." She murmured.

"But-"

"It's alright. I don't mind." She smiled. Joly mumbled some sort of feeble protest and did as she said.

Normally, Musichetta slept in the middle. Because, if someone were to break in, she was the most valuable thing in the apartment and the two of them would protect her at all costs, but today she gave up that promise of protection to protect one of her boys, even if it was just for the night. Bossuet turned th light off before he clambered into bed, and Musichetta draped an arm over Joly's stomach lazily, but still showing that she was there. Bossuet cussed as he stubbed his toe, notseeing the side of the bed as he walked through the darkness, and Joly jumped slightly. When Bossuet fell into the bed, a tangle of legs and arms, he positioned himself against Joly so that his body was pressed completely against the other, as well as he possibly could.

"Sleep well, Joll." He mumbled, kissing the other man clumsily. He was already tired. Musichetta reached a hand over Joly's body to grab Bossuet's, and she gave it a squeeze before releasing it. "Night, 'Chetta."

"Good night, sweetheart." She murmured, both to Joly and to Bossuet. She kissed Joly's cheek sleepily, and rested her head on his chest.

And although it took him a while, Joly fell asleep feeling safe, and warm, and slightly like his legs were going numb.

~~~~~

"No beer before bed, I thought we had established that?" Enjolras raised an eyebrow as Grantaire charged to the kitchen.

Grantaire stopped. "We did. You're right." He nodded.

Beer before bed kept Grantaire up rather than making him fall asleep, and with such a busy schedule Enjolras just couldn't afford to be kept up by Grantaire bugging him all night with drunken blabber. And anyways, when Grntaire drank, Enjolras was more inclined to drink. And that was where the real problem lay.

"I think I might just go to bed, then." Grantiare mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Enjolras nodded. "Think I'll join you." He said, heading towards the bedroom behind Grantaire.

They dressed in near silence, which was strange, because normally Grantaire would have wrestled Enjolras to the ground just so that he could undress him. But today Grantaire pulled his t-shirt over his head, kicked his jeans into the corner of his side of the room and crawled into bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Enjolras frowned, but didn't question it. _Maybe he's just tired_ , he thought, as he unbuttoned his shirt and put it in the washing basket, followed by his jeans. He got into bed next to Grantaire, and flicked out the light.

"Night," He mumbled, turning to face Grantaire as he closed his eyes.

"Night, love." Grantaire murmured.

Enjolras normally took a while to go to sleep, but this time it took longer than expected. Probably because of Grantaire's huffing and puffing beside him. He opened his eyes to find him lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Enjolras watched him for a little wwhile, and then prpped himself up on one elbow.

"What's wrong, R?" He asked quietly, tilting his head slightly.

Grantaire turned to face Enjolras with wide eyes. "Nothing." He replied.

Enjolras sighed a little. "I know something's wrong. What is it?"

Grantaire shook his head, and looked up at the ceiling again.

And then the penny dropped.

Enjolras sat up ever so slightly, and asked, "Grantaire, are you scared?"

"No." Grantaire snapped.

"Aw, babe." Enjolras murmured, shifting to lie closer to his partner. "It's just a movie."

"I'm not scared." Grantaire insisted.

"It's all right, R," Enjolras said, half way between mocking and pity. "I'm here to protect you from the serial insane clown  
killer."

"Fuck off." Grantaire mumbled.

"Well, I might just let him get you with that attitude." Enjolras muttered. He saw the genuine fear in Grantaire's eyes and back peddled. "Come here." He murmured, holding his arms out to Grantaire.

After a second's hesitation, R gratiously accepted, bury hsis head in the crook of Enjolras's neck. "I'm serious, you know." Enjolras murmured, as he wrapped his arms around Grantaire in a strong embrace. "I am here to protect you. From anything. From everything." Grantire said nohting. "I love you."

It was not often that Enjolras said those three words with as much meaning as Grantaire always gave them, or with as  much meaning as he had just given them now. Grantaire pulled back slightly, and regarded Enjolras from that short distance. It was usually him who did the doting, but it was nice to have it put upon him now.

"I love you too." He nodded. "Always." He kissed him, gently, and then buried his head back in the space between  Enjolras's head and shoulder that seemed made for him. And then he thought no more of fake blood and slasher movies, but of the sweet smell of Enjolras's skin and the warmth he felt all over his body.


End file.
